In Her Life
by Something Dangerous
Summary: this is a journal of Esther from the book of Esther in the Bible. This is how i feel she would have felt.


_This is a rewriting of my story by this title before, but I didn't realize that Esther wasn't actually called Esther until later. Anyways, if you could R&R, I'd really appreciate it, & maybe then I won't stink as bad. Also, I apologize for any historical liberties I've taken. I _did_consult my bible and a Persian calendar I found online; whether this is the same calendar that was used during the reign of Xerxes is beyond me._

**Disclaimer: **_I'm not sure if this is necessary; is the Bible even copyrighted? But what the heck? I don't own the book of Esther, Esther herself, Mordecai, Xerxes, Haman, or Jesus. Not that Jesus is in this story (it is B.C. after all) but wouldn't it be cool to have Jesus in your pocket?_

15th day in the month of Khordad in the 3rd year of the reign of King Xerxes

When I wake up this morning my first thought is _Ingrid had her baby chicks last night. _I smile at this. Don't get me wrong, I could not care less about pregnant chickens, but that means that I will be able to go to town to sell the animals. I do enjoy the city. It is just so alive and busy and exciting. Not like where we live, where the best thing seems to be watching adobe dry. I know I sound ungrateful, and like Cousin Mordecai says, 'a complaining mouth on a girl is like thorns on a rose.' But I don't want to live my life in the country side, marry the man that offers the largest dowry, raise kids and die before I've done something worth doing. That's not the sort of life I envision for myself. No, I am going to do truly great things for this world. I am going to help starving children or old widows. I could open up an orphanage for those who are not as blessed as me.

I get up, trying to clean these ungrateful thoughts from my mind. Really, I must learn to be satisfied or there is no way I am going to be accepted by The Most High at the end of my life. I say my prayers, silently begging Him to forgive me. _I do not mean these unholy thoughts, I really do not. It's just, there must be more to life than tending livestock. I know there is. I have seen it in the citadel. Is it really so wrong to ask?_ I know the answer before I even think. _Yes, of course it is. _"A woman must be satisfied with her place in life, she must use it to honor The Most High.," I repeat the words over and over, like one of the chants in the synagogue. And I believe it, do not mistake me, I just think my place is somewhere different.

"Hadassa! Where are you, girl?" the voice of my cousin Mordecai breaks through my silent war.

"I'm coming, Cousin Mordecai," I call down the stairs and too the courtyard where my cousin, who really seems more like a father, is surely standing, waiting for me to bring him some food for the day before he goes off to work. I hurry out of the pantry that doubles as my bedroom and pass through the kitchen, grabbing the bread and fish I prepared the night before and stuffing it into a cloth sack, along with some water. "Good morning, Cousin Mordecai," I chirp, excited about the trip today, despite my dark thoughts earlier.

"Aren't we bright this morning?" he remarks, picking up on my good mood. "Happy about Ingrid's chicks, Little Hadassa?" Little Hadassa is Mordecai's name for me. He still uses it, even though I'm fifteen and practically a grown woman.

"Yes, of course," I answer, acting like that's my real reason. That is different than lying, is it not? My mind supplies the answer, _no it is not._ But there is no time to worry about that now because Mordecai's saying something.

"Excuse me, what was that you were saying?"

Mordecai chuckles, "already dreaming about the trip into Susa today?"

I blush and look down; how can he know me so well? "Do not worry, Cousin Mordecai. I will be careful. I will."

Mordecai frowns just the same. He does not like the city; he thinks it is vulgar and wicked. What he doesn't understand is that Susa is the one place I can't seem to get enough of. Sometimes, I believe that it is what paradise looks like. Not that I will ever get the opportunity to find out, judging by how I am doing today. "Still, I want you take Joshua. The citadel is no place for a young woman alone and unaccompanied."

"Yes, of course," I answer, even though I would rather not. Joshua is the boy who lives next door. He is my age and just the kind of man Mordecai would want me to marry someday. He is kind and smart, dedicated to life in the country almost as much as my cousin himself. Unfortunately, he is also a goody who reports all of my doings, not to mention terribly dull.

But then I remember what I get to do today and the bleakness leaves me and I cannot stop myself from smiling. "Alright, shalom (God be with you), Cousin Mordecai."

"As with you, Little Hadassa," His use of my pet name hardly bothers me now; I'm too excited about going into the city.


End file.
